So kiss me
by Eskimo82
Summary: 5 ( plus 1) times Bellamy Blake kisses Clarke Griffin. Based on the prompt, 46: "Can I kiss you right now?"


A bellarke modern au.

* * *

1.

Meeting Clarke Griffin is not exactly one of his shining moments. His mother has raised him to be better than that.

He snaps at her and sneers ' _princess_ ' at her, and yes, maybe he is irritated for a second but he didn't mean _that_ with malice.

Quite honestly, he is taken by surprise. A big one. He blinks, a few rapid blinks, to clear his eyes. Just the night before he had been citing the story of Cinderella to his little sister; so imagine his surprise when the following day, a pretty girl with sky blue eyes and long, golden curls runs into him, knocking a pile of books from his hands.

He is staring at her, lips parting in surprise when she blushes, teeth catching on her lip and bends down to collect his books. So when he gulps and says, "Watch your steps, _Princess_!" his voice might sound shaky and annoyed.

She scoffs, hands him the books she's already picked, and turns on her heels, leaving him behind without as much as saying a word.

They are hardly friends by the time he asks her if he can kiss her.

He is almost sixteen, still wearing the glasses with a one eye patch, when Roma and Bree in his class tease him about never been kissed. He could have asked Roma, or even Bree, of course; and probably that would have been a much logical choice. In that moment, however, he just knows – he doesn't want to be kissed by Roma or Bree. They _are_ nice enough when they let up on teasing, and they _are_ pretty. Very pretty. Dax from their class definitely has a huge crush on both of them.

He supposes Bree would even volunteer to be his first kiss if Dax wasn't around.

It's just ... He's read so many tales to Octavia since he could read, and his sister mumbled so many times sleepily into the pillow: "Bell, you should marry a _princess_ " that maybe, _maybe_ that's why he started to believe – perhaps, he could. Not marry a princess but be best friends with one. So with that in mind, he asks Clarke after school.

"Why," she asks, looking at him with big blue eyes, sceptical. He shrugs, his mouth curving into a half smile and she nods, careful, and then he kisses her. By standards, it's not even a real kiss. First, he leans in and pecks the corner of her mouth, then blows a quick kiss on the top of her head.

(He kisses a girl on the lips a few months later, yet somehow this moment with Clarke is the one he remembers, down to the feel of the sweat on his palms and the rapid heartbeats in his chest. After all, it was his _true_ first kiss – _kissing a princess_ .)

And somehow they do become best friends with Clarke after that.

Perhaps, some dreams are meant to come true after all.

* * *

2.

The next time he kisses her, _she_ asks him. Her father has just passed away and she's sobbing into his shoulders, holding onto him like a lifeline.

"Can you kiss me? _Please_."

He nods, cupping her face; and even though her lips are wet and chapped under his, and he can taste her tears on her lips, he thinks - if the circumstances were right - this is something he could get lost in. But it ends before he can give a real thought to it and her tears are spilling again, as she pulls away.

She mumbles a weak "Thank you," sniffs, and leans her head back against his shoulders.

"Anytime, _Princess,"_ he cradles her head, her hair feeling so soft under his fingers.

Eventually, she falls asleep like that, with tiny snores and her breath hot on his shoulders.

They don't see each other for years after that.

* * *

3.

He is in his twenties, having dated Gina for three months when they call it and agree they are better as friends. Miraculously, they are. She is the bartender at the pub Bellamy and his small circle of friends are regulars at, and she still gives him free beer from time to time. (He's certain it has nothing to do with her crush on Raven.)

Seeing Clarke again after so many years is a welcome surprise. She looks... Fine. She's sitting at the far end of the bar, she is smiling and biting her lips and by the look of it, she is on a date. Her eyes look a darker shade of blue under the dimmed lights of the place, her hair is much shorter than the Clarke he's known.

She is different, but she looks healthy and she matured well.

He watches as her eyes grow wide the moment she recognizes him. Her face brightens, instantly waving him over.

"Bellamy, hey," she hops down from the high chair as he approaches and pulls him down in a quick hug. "It's been –"

"Six years seven days. Give or take."

"Wow," she breathes, eyes locked on him, still smiling, and to his delight, it's not until a bit later that she remembers her companion and clears her throat to introduce them. "Bellamy, this is Riley. He is my friend from college. He helped me get a job here and settle in ...and a big help in general."

"You live here?"

"Yeah, just moved this last weekend, actually."

"Your hair is shorter."

"You grew a beard."

 _Yeah._ He scratches his neck awkwardly.

They fall into silence after that and when he licks his lips and is ready to leave she grabs his wrist and asks for his number. "If you don't mind. I'd love to catch up some more."

It feels like a big weight lifting off of his chest, to be honest. Because despite the smiles and the euphoria of seeing her again, he had this dull aching - like a movie put on pause for so long - _what if_ they hadn't moved and _what if_ they had managed to stay friends after?

He shakes Riley's hand in goodbye.

And it's easy from there. Clarke and Riley join his friend group surprisingly soon. He learns she likes dry red wine over white and works at a museum administration office. Her dream job is being part of the curator team. Riley is indeed a friend, and nothing more.

Within a few months they are back to being close friends. Affectionate ones.

Octavia eyes him like a hawk every time she spots him looking at Clarke for too long.

"What? I'm not gonna deny that she is attractive. But, she's my _friend,_ O."

"Right, a friend you'd like to f-" he covers her mouth in time because quite honestly there are things he doesn't want to think about. _Not yet_ , he's just got Clarke back.

And it's not until he kisses Clarke again that he lets himself imagine a relationship with Clarke. The romantic kind.

The kiss happens like this:

They are into their second drink, he's already a bit tipsy, when Clarke groans in frustration, leaning in closer to him and grabs his thigh. "Help me."

He nudges his nose against her shoulders, "What? Princess - " letting his chin settle there.

"See that guy over there?"She moves her head towards the bar."That shaggy brown."

"The one talking to Raven?" He cranes his neck to get a better view, but Clarke suddenly turns and places a warm palm against his cheek and turns his head, looking up to him. "Shhh, don't stare like that!" She hisses.

"What is it, Clarke?"

"That's … Finn."

"Raven's ex Finn?"

"Yeah — I met him last week and was stupid enough to give him my number in a tipsy moment and – "she lets out an annoyed groan, rather cute if you ask him, and he smiles. "Look, don't judge, I went out with him once. Once. But he doesn't leave me alone. He keeps texting me and I was trying to let him down the polite way, but he doesn't get it! In what alternate universe is it not clear when I keep making up stupid excuses not to meet him means to 'back off'?!"

 _"Clarke,_ I think he's heading this way," he murmurs into her ears, his head dipping, and he definitely feels a shiver run up her neck. He can also see the panic in her eyes now, but what he's not prepared for is the determination that follows.

"Kiss me, quick!"

"What?"

"Would you just kiss me, _please,_ or do I have to beg for it?" But she doesn't wait for his response, somehow her fingers are buried in his hair, tugging him down.

Her lips are softer than he remembers.

It's easy to get lost in kissing her, and when she bites down on his bottom lip, he bites back and soon her lips are parting and he sneaks a tongue in, battling with hers and he doesn't know how much time passes.

He hears a faint snicker.

"Now there's something I thought I'd never see."

It's Octavia.

Of course, his little sister will tease him forever about this.

When they glance up, with a pleasant blush on their cheeks, Finn is nowhere to be seen. (But he sees Gina giving him a thumbs up when - in an attempt to avoid Octavia's " _finally, you did it, loser_ " face, he meets Gina's eyes instead.)

(Surprisingly, Octavia doesn't tease him about it.)

...

Maybe things should be a little awkward after that. But he's kissed her before. Not exactly like this... Not with tongue, and not with this kind of passion and heat. Not in a way that leaves him craving for more. He _should_ talk to her, he really should. But frankly, he doesn't know how to bring it up - the kissing, and what it could lead to, or if she's open to explore something more.

A week later he spots Clarke chatting to a brunette at the bar. He doesn't think anything more to it. He has time to figure this out.

...

Clarke starts dating the brunette a few weeks later. It doesn't last long, they have a fallout pretty early on. The way he understands it, it's about a work opportunity Clarke wanted but didn't get because of her.

But then, to his utmost surprise, they move in together after three months of break.

His feelings on the topic are irrelevant. He wants Clarke to be happy. But. He doesn't think rushing into a relationship will do her good with their baggage.

* * *

4.

"So I packed a bag and-"

"And now you're here, on my doorstep. Why, exactly?" The smile on Clarke's face drops quickly and he realizes that he sounds much harsher than intended. He's always happy to see Clarke.

"I –"

"No, _Clarke,_ I didn't mean it like that." He takes a step back and opens his door wider. _"Please,_ come in."

He takes the bags from her hands and shows Clarke to the spare room - the room he effectively started using as a study when Octavia moved out.

He has to grab his books and laundry later but for now, he leaves her to herself and leaves to put on the kettle to make tea.

By the time the kettle is whistling Clarke has emerged from the room. She's shrugged out of her coat, kicked her shoes off and put on some fluffy pink socks.

He nods his head in the direction of the couch. She takes his lead and settles down, pulling her legs under herself. She looks so soft and vulnerable like this.

"Tell me," he hands her a steaming cup, the aroma of the tea already filling the air, clearing his throat," I'm listening. If you want to."

And he learns she has broken up with her girlfriend. For good. He wants to be sad about it - but he really can't. He is sad _for her_ , for her feeling this way, but if he wants to be perfectly honest, Clarke will achieve greater things without being in that relationship. She can finally live.

It takes ten days of burnt toast and disgustingly sweet coffee and two stupid arguments until they get used to each other as roommates.

Their first argument happens a few weeks into living together. "I swear to God, _Princess,_ if you leave your shoes _again_ in the middle of the living room, I'm gonna donate them to charity! Who needs this many pairs of shoes anyway?"

Well, now he knows that was the worst thing to say on the first day of her period. Suffice to say, Clarke storms out of her room, grabs her shoes, spitting a "How dare you!" in his face and doesn't talk to him for two days straight. He still makes her hot cocoa before going to bed.

Their following argument is kind of stupid.

He's trying to show her how to fold her fresh clothes in a way to avoid wrinkles as much as possible. But after a few failed attempts Clarke has had enough, hops down on her bed and groans," _Bellamy,_ let me live and fold my laundry in peace! It's not like anyone gives a damn about a few wrinkles."

"You say that _now_ but you'll be thankful when you get that job at the -"

She huffs "Okay. But who irons their underwear?"

"I'm pretty sure those big suits at the museum are –"

She lets out a frustrated huff and throws a bra at him, "Get out!"

Her lips are quivering so he knows better than to tease her any longer. He exhales, unplugs the iron and closes the door behind him.

Clarke is out on the couch that night, her hair up in a lazy bun, dressed in leggings and _his_ favourite grey sweatshirt, so he knows they are going to be okay. He doesn't try to cover his smile as he goes and sits down next to her.

It wasn't their last argument and not even the worst. But honestly? Seeing Clarke grumpy and rumpled in the mornings is the cutest thing ever and she is truly the best thing that has happened to him since Octavia moved out.

...

She moves out by the end of the fourth month, having found a good lease hardly a few streets away.

"Look at you," he teases as he helps to grab her last bag. "You learned to make a proper French toast and your shoes are not ruling the place."

"Yeah," she bites on her lip." You took excellent care of me." She rises on her tiptoes and kisses his cheek. He thinks she lingers, before pulling him down into a hug.

He remembers that first awkward kiss, and suddenly he is so thrown by the intimacy of this small kiss that his hand finds her neck and holds onto her tighter.

His head knows that she is not going far away and they are going to meet soon, but when Clarke waves him goodbye his heart is still breaking a little and he knows, he is in love with her.

"Don't be a stranger, _Bell."_

 _Crap_.

* * *

5\. (+1)

They've been dating for years when the idea of the hike occurs to him. He's been plotting the trip for months, run several scenarios in his head, but, honestly? He knows she loves him back. (It's in the way she looks at him and caresses the nape of his neck, or the way she breathes his name to his skin in bed between kisses. He is a lucky man.)

Clarke is leaning against a tree, finding her breath after their hike. It's a crisp, early autumn afternoon, the leaves are about change colour and fall anytime soon.

Bellamy watches her breathing in and out, and the slight blush slowly fading away from her cheeks. Her hair is reaching just below her shoulders now, glowing like a shade of golden rose as the autumn sun is catching on her curls, and the faint shadows are dancing on her face.

He takes a steps closer. "Can I kiss you right now?"

She puts a hand on his chest, pushing him playfully away.

"Why?"

He ducks his head, taking a breath.

"Because ... Clarke Griffin, I made a promise to my sister as a little boy that I would marry a princess ... And I'm not going to break that promise. And I'm hoping you'll say yes and be my wife."

He doesn't remember her answer but he remembers the eager kisses she rains on him and the palm she places above his heart before grabbing his shirt and pulling him down.

...

 _11 months later_

"You can kiss me now," she whispers against his lips. She is wearing all white, and he's squeezing her hands as he leans in closer.

" _Smartass_ ... I am now."

 _ **Fin.**_

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A/n: Comments and kudos are always welcome!


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